Read Online Come Near Me by Kasey Michaels - Free Book Online

either gauche or idiotic, she watched as a handsome
young man entered the room.
    “Adam, I don’t see why I should be dragged into this
bound to be stultifying din—” the young man began, then stopped
dead, staring at Sherry. “Well, hello there, dear lady,” he went on
quickly, recovering nicely, if she didn’t count the embarrassed
rush of color in his cheeks.
    A moment later her hand was lifted to within an inch
of the young man’s kiss, then held for a few seconds before he
released her. “Dear lady. I am Dagenham, for my sins, and you must
be Miss Charlotte Victor. M’brother failed to mention that he’d
invited an angel to dine with us, a goddess. Our humble home is
more than honored, and I shall have to slay my brother at once, for
seeing you first.”
    He then turned to bow to Stanley Victor, who was
looking the stylishly dressed young man up and down with a fairly
baleful eye and a slightly curled lip. “Greetings, good sir,” he
continued, his voice full of fun, of joy and mischief. “You must be
my assignment for the evening. How jolly. Would you care for a
drink? Lemonade for you, Miss Victor, of course.”
    “A drink, is it?” Stanley Victor blustered. “Now
there speaks a man of sense, even if he does dress like a popinjay.
Oh, close your mouth, Sherry, I’m not going to say anything to put
you to the blush. Boy knows he looks like a popinjay. He’d have to,
stands to reason. Probably even does it on purpose, thinks himself
to be right pretty. Don’t you, boy?”
    “I often find myself to be adorable, yes,” His
Lordship answered, winking at Sherry, so that she no longer felt as
if she had to grab hold of her father, stuff her reticule into his
mouth, and drag him back to Frame Cottage.
    She watched as the elegant Lord Geoffrey Dagenham
strolled to the drinks table, silently marveling at the dangerous
height of his shirt points, the intricacy of his cravat. He poured
out two glasses of wine and her lemonade, then served them to his
guests, his tongue still behaving as if it were hinged at both ends
as he prattled on about the weather, his own hounds, the tour of
the Daventry kennels he would give her papa after dinner—all
seemingly without taking a breath.
    He was a handsome young man, almost classically so.
His smile was Adam Dagenham’s smile, his eyes, although lighter in
color, held the same twinkle. His form, tall and muscular, mimicked
that of the marquess, and his hair, dark blond to his brother’s
black, displayed the same tendency to wave, to resist attempts to
keep one unruly lock from falling forward onto a smooth
forehead.
    He was also nearer her age, probably splitting the
difference between hers and his brother’s. He was still young
enough to be silly, to be amused by her unsophisticated ways.
Handsome and witty enough to turn any female head, win any female
heart. She liked him immediately, was not in the least in awe of
him, and felt she could hold her own with him in any conversation.
He didn’t frighten her, as the marquess frightened her, intrigued
her.
    And yet Sherry could only see him as a slighter,
paler imitation of the marquess. He didn’t make her heart skip when
he looked at her. Her stomach didn’t do a small somersault when he
bent over her hand. Her knees didn’t turn to jelly at the sight of
his smile, the sound of his laugh.
    How odd.
    Fortunately for Sherry’s still-jangled nerves, by
the time the marquess entered, apologizing for being late even as
he shook hands with her father, Lord Dagenham and Stanley Victor
were deep in conversation centering on the “boys,” and her father
was too busy to disgrace himself further with remarks about the
lateness of his dinner.
    Unfortunately, also for Sherry’s still-jangled
nerves, that left her and the marquess quite alone together as they
sat near each other on matching couches—she waiting for some kind
soul to announce dinner before her heart stopped completely.
    The silence in their corner of the